


On Feathers and Quills

by ThatMasterOnline



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMasterOnline/pseuds/ThatMasterOnline
Summary: Aziraphale discovers that Crowley uses some alternate techniques to get to sleep. Aziraphale decides to help.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	On Feathers and Quills

**Author's Note:**

> This fic references another fic that I think most everyone in the fandom has read, and I've completely forgotten the name of. If anybody catches on and can give me the name, author, or a link to the fic, I'd be very much obliged. I found it while sifting through literally every Aziraphale/Crowley fic published at the time, and I'd rather not do that again. Thanks in advance!

It wasn’t anything that Aziraphale thought required any particular attention, at first. Once they had moved in together, Aziraphale noticed that Crowley slept with earbuds in his ears. He thought nothing of it. Listening to music  _ was  _ incredibly soothing, and even Aziraphale had to admit, having a portable music player that didn’t disturb the other occupants certainly was a technological improvement, despite the fact that he himself would likely never progress beyond a CD player. (Aziraphale had been swayed by the description of CDs as “like records for gramophones, but smaller". The gramophone certainly was a  _ spacious _ invention.)

So Crowley slept with his headphones in. He always slept on his back. Aziraphale had asked once, and Crowley had told him that headphones became uncomfortable if you tried to sleep on your side. Again, nothing to concern himself with. Music was a relaxing way to get to sleep, and sleep was to Crowley what food was to Aziraphale: either you did it right or not at all. That was, after all, why Crowley had mountains of soft down duvets, and a very special one that Crowley treasured above all else. It positively radiated divinity, and Aziraphale remembered how Crowley had swept up the feathers from his last molt, saying that everything had its uses. That, apparently, had been the intended use. 

Aziraphale’s particular...vice (he was not going to call it a sin) was gluttony, not sloth, and so they fell into the habit of Crowley pulling his attention from his evening book long enough to kiss him goodnight, then retreating to his bedroom with his cellphone and his headphones in hand. Aziraphale never slept, he had taken to it only once in his many millenia, and that only because of the strain his heavenly duties was putting on him. Here, now, when he was happy as a clam, he had no need for it. He read, he ate, he cuddled Crowley, he organized his bookshop, he drank cocoa...He never got bored of his creature comforts, and he saw no need to sleep. It was lucky that Crowley seemed to love Aziraphale more than he loved sleep, or he might never see his demon again. 

And so, they continued in this way for a long time. Many months, in fact. They had found a lovely cottage in the South Downs, and they lived together, but Crowley’s sleeping habit was something Aziraphale did not intrude on. The bedroom was all but sacred to Crowley, and Aziraphale respected that. The angel and the demon shared their space for a long time before anything changed. On the day in question, what changed was that Aziraphale and Crowley were watching an episode of Cutthroat Kitchen. 

It was a mutual favourite; Aziraphale loved the humanity of it all, the way people soared despite challenges, and Crowley loved the underhanded nature of sabotage. Today, they had been watching for rather longer than they usually did, and Aziraphale was warm and soft and comfortable, and Crowley was loathe to leave his angel for a cold bed. Besides, one of the contestants had chosen to sabotage another by having them cook without any garlic, a move that was nothing short of genius; no way was Crowley going to miss how that would turn out. So Crowley stayed right where he was, fighting to keep his eyes open and losing miserably. When Aziraphale caught on as to what was happening and gently began to card his fingers through his hair Crowley was lost, shivering once before surrendering entirely to the heaviness in his eyes.

Crowley woke, bleary-eyed, to find that Aziraphale had turned the TV off and was instead about two hundred pages deep into something that looked more like a tome than a book, but turned out to be Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The hand in his hair was still now, resting instead of stroking, and Crowley sighed.

“Awake, darling?” Aziraphale asked in a whisper.

“No. Too comfortable,” Crowley mumbled, and was rewarded with the feel of Aziraphale’s stomach vibrating with laughter. Crowley sighed and closed his eyes again.

“Could you stay awake long enough to indulge my curiosity for a moment?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley hummed.

“Sure, angel.”

“Well, I was wondering what music you listen to at night to help you fall asleep. That way if you ever start falling asleep on the couch again, I could put on some music to help you along."

Crowley froze. Aziraphale wondered if he had somehow overstepped. He couldn’t possibly imagine what was so delicate about music that Crowley felt so secretive about it even around him, but the idea that this was a question Crowley was hesitant to answer seemed the only explanation for the complete evaporation of the soft relaxation from seconds ago. Even further evidence to Crowley’s embarrassment was the shifty answer he got, almost certainly the closest thing to a lie Crowley had ever told him.

“...You...you wouldn’t like it. It’s...not normally the sort of thing people fall asleep to. Be too distracting for you.”

“You know I wouldn’t mind, Crowley. If it helps you get to sleep, I’d have no issue with it.”

“Yeah, I...I know you wouldn't. Still. I...It’s...unconventional.” Aziraphale considered, but decided to let the matter drop for now.

“Alright, darling, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

And that seemed to be the end of that. Crowley got up, citing coffee, and Aziraphale missed the warmth already. Aziraphale was, admittedly, curious, and while curiosity had killed this cat quite a few times, satisfaction always brought it back.

So he started planning.

***

Aziraphale had taken to sleeping only once in his six millenia on Earth. The year was 1693. Aziraphale had been sent to Sicily by head office, having been told that something would happen and he would need to help clean up. “Something” turned out to be a massive earthquake that had happened mere days after Aziraphale had arrived in the city, followed by a tsunami that crippled a city already brought to its knees. Aziraphale spent months cleaning up bodies, many of whom were children and babies. He overtaxed himself using miracles to bring the babies back to life, unable to endure the mothers’ grief. The emotional exhaustion of it all prompted him to escape into the nothingness of sleep, for a few hours’ reprieve. After that, he was sent straight to America, where Crowley had, unintentionally, sparked the Salem Witch Trials and had been sent Dagon’s right-hand man to further the chaos and death. Aziraphale’s job was, naturally, to put a stop to it. And put a stop to it he did, but not before giving Crowley the shock of his life when he noticed how completely Aziraphale’s demeanour had changed.

After all was said and done, Crowley treated him to the most luxurious holiday anyone could ever ask for. It took a long time for Crowley to pull him from the rut he’d fallen into, the need to use sleep as a numbing agent, but Aziraphale did eventually find his zest for life once again. Once he did, he gave up sleep and never looked back.

All of this meant that Crowley would immediately suspect something was up if Aziraphale spontaneously asked to come to bed with him. Aziraphale did not sleep, he loved life too much to waste time lying motionless in bed. That is, Aziraphale did not sleep unless something awful had happened to prompt him to need a numbing agent.

So, for Aziraphale to have an excuse to come to bed with Crowley, something awful would need to happen.

***

As it turned out, Aziraphale never got to put his plans into motion, as something awful happened all by itself.

Aziraphale’s phone rang. 

He patted Crowley gently, and Crowley pulled himself off of Aziraphale’s lap, eyes never once leaving his phone screen and that mindless candy game he always played.

“Hello? ...Yes, speaking? … ...I...I…” Yes, Crowley’s eyes were on him now, having heard the sudden frailty in Aziraphale’s voice.

“...I think perhaps...you’ve got the wrong...number…” Crowley was sitting up straight now.

“Yes, that’s me...Yes...Yes...But...but you see...I...I was just...I...I...see…” Crowley rose from his seat, putting his phone down, crossing the room in a few strides to place a hand gently on his back.

“Yes, I...I...understand. I...Yes, I...I think so...Yes...I...I will...Yes...Ye...yes? … … Oh. Oh…Oh dear, oh...” Aziraphale felt his world tilt alarmingly. Crowley’s arms wrapped firmly around his waist as he sank to the ground.

“I...I…Yes...Yes...Yes, I...understand...Thank you...” Aziraphale did not so much “hang up” as he did let the phone fall from his grip. Immediately, a hand was on his face, stroking gently.

“Aziraphale?” He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. 

“Aziraphale, look at me.” The hand on his cheek tilted his face to help him along, and he met Crowley’s wide, anxious eyes.

“Crowley…” Crowley let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m here, angel, I’m here. Are you alright? What do you need? What can I do?” Aziraphale blinked. He realized at once what a perfect opportunity had just presented itself to him, at least where having an excuse to crawl into bed with Crowley was concerned. That it was convenient timing did not diminish the horror he was feeling in the slightest.

“Crowley, I…I…”

“What happened, angel?” Crowley prompted him again.

“The...bookshop...it’s gone…”

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” 

“There was...an accelerant...gasoline...they’re...looking into leads now...Oh, I...I should have mentioned...those men...they’ve been trying to buy the property off me for ages…”

“The bookshop…” Crowley was putting the pieces together, and Aziraphale closed his eyes.

“...It burned down?” Aziraphale couldn’t say it, he could only make a choked sound of assent in the back of his throat.

“Oh, angel...I...we’ll fix it. Tomorrow we’ll go to the bookshop and miracle it back together, piece by piece.”

“There...There was...a boy…”

“Boy? What boy?”

“Petty crimes. Likely...breaking and entering...hoping for a safe...He didn’t...make it...make it out…” Aziraphale’s composure broke, and Crowley pulled him into his chest as his face crumpled and he started to cry in earnest.

“My... _ my _ bookshop, Crowley...Somebody died...in...in  _ my  _ bookshop…” 

“I know, angel, I know, I know…”

"It's  _ gone _ …!"

"Shhh, I know, angel…"

"Gone…"

"I know."

"That poor boy, Crowley…"

"I know, shh…."

"That poor boy…!"

"Shhh….shh…"

Aziraphale cried for a long time. The bookshop could be fixed, but the boy that had died...and in his bookshop…There was no fixing that.

"Crowley…" he finally murmured, "...Tonight...do you...do you mind if I...sleep with you?"

"'Course, angel. Do you need anything to help you get to sleep?"

"No, no, just...just you. I just...want to be beside you."

"'Course." Crowley patted him, gently urging him up, and together they went to the bedroom, Crowley picking out Aziraphale's fluffiest pyjamas.

"Mind if I...listen to music? Helps me sleep."

"No, not...not at all…" They crawled into bed together, and Aziraphale made sure to lay on top of Crowley, burying his face in his neck. Crowley bid him goodnight, then turned on his music. Aziraphale listened as closely as he could, while keeping his breathing even, and heard the oddest thing. It didn't sound like music. Or at least, Crowley had absolutely  _ terrible  _ headphones, and with how often Crowley played his music, that seemed impossible. So these sounds he was hearing must be part of the music.

It sounded like...white noise. The sort of thing you'd hear from a bad TV. It was...rhythmic, almost. There was no melody that he could hear, nothing else. And yet Crowley's chest rose and fell with a contented sigh, so something in this must be relaxing to him. How very strange. Whatever this strange...audio was, it lulled Crowley to sleep in minutes. Aziraphale waited until he was well and truly asleep, then he quietly unlocked Crowley's phone. He was terrible with technology, but he wouldn't be doing anything, just looking. 

When Crowley's phone opened, he was met with a video playing. In it, a young woman was running a comb through a mannequin's head, over and over. There seemed to be nothing else to the video. Aziraphale stared at the screen, searching for more information, but even the title of the video was entirely unhelpful. "Sleepy Tingles ASMR", what on earth did  _ that _ mean? Sighing, Aziraphale decided he would have to do more research.

The next morning, after they had gotten the bookshop put back together and ensured the young boy's family had been notified, Aziraphale elected to stay inside despite the gorgeous weather. The misery on his face only needed to be played up a little bit. He was utterly devastated about the boy, but that normally wouldn't have stopped him from enjoying the weather somewhat. Crowley didn't argue, only saying that he'd be outside if Aziraphale needed anything. While Crowley was out tending the garden, Aziraphale went on his computer. It was ancient, and Crowley wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole, so his searches would be safe from Crowley's curious eyes. He went to the Google page and typed in Sleepy Tingles ASMR. To his surprise, the same video from the night before popped up as the first result. He clicked on it, and found that the video was exactly what it appeared to be. The young woman introduced herself in a whisper, all the while combing the hair on the mannequin. The microphone she was using appeared to be extra-sensitive, as the quiet sounds of comb on hair were particularly loud. No doubt why she was speaking in a whisper, anything louder would be overwhelming. But what  _ was  _ it? And how did it help Crowley sleep?

Closing the internet, reopening it, and navigating back to the Google page, he typed in What is Sleepy Tingles ASMR? That search only yielded more videos, so he closed the browser again, reopened it, navigated back to the Google, and typed What is ASMR? 

The answer popped up right in front of him.

_ Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response _

_ Autonomous sensory meridian response, sometimes auto sensory meridian response, is a tingling sensation that typically begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck and upper spine. A pleasant form of paresthesia, it has been compared with auditory-tactile synesthesia and may overlap with frisson.  _ (From Wikipedia)

Ah, so the sounds triggered some sort of pleasant sensation that helped Crowley, and no doubt countless others, to get to sleep. 

Crowley was coming in from the garden, so he turned off his computer and went to pretend he had been reading. If his pretending wasn't terribly convincing, Crowley didn't question it, and he always had the excuse that he had been mourning.

Over the next week, Aziraphale spent every waking moment - at least, the waking moments when he was away from Crowley - on the computer, researching this ASMR. So it was a pleasant tingling sensation, and the things that caused this sensation were called triggers or tingles. Sleepy Tingles ASMR meant that it was ASMR, and the tingles were meant to put you to sleep. Of course, it was all clear now. His research suggested that triggers had the greatest impact with headphones, and Aziraphale bought them, but he didn't feel any sort of happy tingling. Well, his research had said that some people didn't "tingle", perhaps he was one of them. He'd hoped for an answer as to why Crowley enjoyed it, but…

...Well, then again...he was just bad enough with the internet that he could pass this off as something he'd chanced across. Then he could get the information right from the horse's mouth.

That was his plan, then.

"Crowley?" he began innocently the next day, "I was wondering if you could help me with something?"

"Sure thing, angel, what do you need?"

"Well, you know, you're so much better with this technology than I am…"

"That I am," Crowley agreed with a slight curve of his lips.

"Well, I was looking through the internet the other day…"

"Browsing."

"Er, well, yes...Well, I came across something I didn't quite understand, and I was hoping you could explain it. You're so much more up to date with the culture around the internet than I am." Crowley's eyes narrowed.

"...Angel, if you've stumbled across more kinky porn, I swear to Somebody-"

"It isn't, it isn't," Aziraphale replied quickly, "...At least, I don't think it is…" Crowley eyed him suspiciously, no doubt thinking he had indeed stumbled across more "kinky porn".

...In his defense, it had only been once. And he'd never done it again.

"...Alright, what did you find?"

"Some sort of...trend. It was called Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, or ASMR for short." Crowley sat up straight like he'd been electrocuted, but his eyes weren't suspicious anymore.

"ASMR, I've heard of it. Makes your body all tingly, good for stress and stuff." 

"...I don't understand."

"It's got something to do with the brain, I think. Hearing some sounds triggers some sort of something in the body...I don't really know how it works. It's nice, though. I listen to it...sometimes." Every night, more likely.

"Do you? Well, I was wondering what sorts of things you like, I understand ASMR involves...a lot of things." Crowley shrugged.

"Well, there has to be. Different people like different things. Personally, I've never found a video I liked a hundred percent."

"Oh?" He tried not to sound too interested.

"Yep. Tons of videos have talking in them, and I can't stand the talking. Any videos that don't have talking start with that finger thing, and I can't stand that, either."

"Finger thing?"

"Yeah, they rub their fingers together for the sound it makes. I never cared for it, myself. If I click on a video that says hair brushing, I want it to be all hair brushing. No talking, no finger things, no massagers, and no tapping the brush, either. I don't care what the brush sounds like, I care what it sounds like when the brush is going through hair. It's little things. I've just...never found a video I liked a hundred percent, that's all. Anyway, what else did you want to know?" That was it. Actually, Aziraphale had an inkling of an idea forming in his mind, but that would need considerably more planning.

"You said it makes you feel good. Is it...a kinky thing?" Crowley let out a shocked laugh.

"No, no no, it's not kinky. It's relaxing. Some people use it to fall asleep."

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll do a little more research. Thank you so much, Crowley, you know I value your expertise in these things."

"No problem, angel."

***

A month and considerably more research later, Aziraphale came to Crowley with another strange request.

"I was wondering how I might look with makeup on." Crowley's eyes widened.

" _ Damn  _ gorgeous. Beautiful. Fantastic.  _ So _ goddamn soft." The words came out in a rush, and Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. And then he smiled shyly.

"Well then...Perhaps...if it wouldn't be too much trouble-"

" _ Yes _ ," Crowley agreed without hesitation, "Get over here, I'll get my stuff."

Aziraphale followed Crowley as he got up, almost tripping over himself to go to the bedroom where his makeup was.

"Sit here, angel. Do you want anything specific?"

"Hm...just...not too much, if you don't mind."

"Course not. Never." And he set to work.

Crowley would admit that his hands were trembling with excitement as he set to work, gently applying a dusting of foundation to Aziraphale's face. Aziraphale had always preferred the male gender, had worn himself as a male since the beginning. Once, however, in the late eighteenth century, Aziraphale had decided it would be easier to pass as a woman for an assignment. He'd worn makeup then, and dear Somebody, the way he'd looked…

Crowley had spent many, many hours since then imagining how he'd looked then. He never expected Aziraphale would ask to experiment with makeup. Aziraphale, like with everything else in his life, was firmly set in his habits and loathe to change. Unlike Crowley, who could change up his look every few days - every few  _ hours  _ \- if he was in the right mood, Aziraphale was quite fond of the immediate perception of maleness and was perfectly happy in a suit and without makeup. 

"What promoted this, then?" Crowley asked, followed by "Close your eyes."

"Well," Aziraphale began as he obediently closed his eyes (Crowley's heart nearly stopped.  _ How  _ did he end up with the most gorgeous angel in all of Heaven?), "I've heard makeup is used to make people look more beautiful, and it's something I wanted to try." Crowley stopped, looking up at Aziraphale.

"Listen to me, Aziraphale. You were gorgeous the moment you were created, and you have never once stopped being absolutely perfect, so if you're doing this because you're self-conscious…"

"I'm not, Crowley, I promise. I...wanted to experiment. See how beautiful I could look." Crowley leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Aziraphale's.

"You are always beautiful. You'll just be beautiful with rosy cheeks and longer eyelashes." Aziraphale smiled.

"Exactly what I wanted."

"And maybe a little bit of lipstick."

"If you'd prefer."

"And maybe some glitter…?"

"Let's not go overboard." Crowley smiled. In the end, Aziraphale had light blue eye shadow, a light coating of mascara to make his eyelashes longer and more delicate-looking, enough blush to give his cheeks a rosy appearance, and a touch of lipstick. Crowley stared. And then he kissed Aziraphale until they were both breathless.

"I take it this means I'm beautiful…?" Aziraphale asked when he could, steadying himself with his hands on Crowley's shoulders.

"I love you, Aziraphale, I love you so much."

"...Won't you have to redo my lipstick?"

"Not if it knows what's good for it."

It took Crowley a few long minutes to get himself under control, during which time he pressed his face into Aziraphale's chest, occasionally looked up at Aziraphale, and immediately fell back to Aziraphale's chest.

"I would have done this ages ago, if I knew how much it affected you. Have you been fantasizing about seeing me in makeup?"

"For ages. Since that time...in Italy…"

"Oh, yes. I was a woman, and we pretended to be married. Goodness, that's an awful lot of repressed desire…" 

"Worth it," Crowley groaned, "Worth every damn second."

So Aziraphale routinely let Crowley do his makeup. On one memorable occasion, Aziraphale did his own makeup.

"How do I look?" He'd asked, sporting uneven eyeshadow, too much blush and lipstick that was slightly out of place. 

(All in all it wasn't horrible, for a first attempt.)

Crowley's heart stopped. As did his brain.

What followed convinced Aziraphale that he should do his own makeup more often.

***

While all of this was happening, Aziraphale was also investing in technology. And experimenting. Experimenting left, right, and center. He visited Anathema, asked to be taught everything she knew about technology, and spent the better part of a month learning all about YouTube and Google and e-mails and accounts that had nothing to do with banking. And then he set his plan in motion.

***

"Have you watched any more ASMR since we talked?"

"Well, I watched a couple. They were all too intense for me."

"Intense?"

"Yeah, the, uh...tingles are too much, so it's uncomfortable to listen to."

"I see."

"Yeah. I prefer the quieter ones. The ear licking is too much. Just like nice soft brushes and things. The ones with combs are nice. I dunno, I feel like a lot of artists do a lot in one video, and frankly I'd just like one thing. Hair combing. Hair brushing. The scalp massages are different, I like those ones. The lice check ones are nice because of the comb. Don't like the sounds the gloves make, though. Distracts from the comb sounds. I do occasionally enjoy the roleplay ones, but not for sleeping, really. Although one naga video was really nice...Sorry, this is probably going over your head."

"No no, go on, I love hearing you get excited." As if he wasn't taking strict mental notes.

"Thanks, angel. Well, I do like the vampire ones, even if none of them can get the drinking right. I feel like if the drinking sounds were right, I could watch a whole video just with that. Nice little roleplay, maybe...maybe not. Just the drinking sounds. And I like the videos where they play with sand, or those bubble things...The brushes on ears are lovely, too. Tingting - this one artist - has used a feather against the mic in a couple videos, and I absolutely loved it. I could watch a whole hour long video, just with that."

Feathers, eh? 

Aziraphale got to work.

***

Crowley was in a browsing mood. The ASMR trend had long since cooled, but ASMRtists posted new videos all the time. He was particularly fond of Tingting, even if she did do a lot of talking. The variety of videos made up for it. 

This particular day, he found a brand-new channel had been created: Angelic ASMR. Crowley snorted. What a stupid name. Still, never one to pass up on an ASMR video until he'd given it a chance, he clicked on the channel and read the description.

_ My partner is an ASMR connoisseur of sorts, and he claims he has never found a video that he loved completely. So, I made this channel to cater entirely to him. Here's hoping he'll find the perfect video somewhere in this collection. _

Crowley highly doubted he'd have the same tastes as this angel's partner, but he'd give one of the videos a shot. He clicked on the first video, titled Feather Sounds ASMR.

Aziraphale's face stared back at him, and Crowley nearly discorporated on the spot.

Aziraphale had an - yes, he was going to say it - an angelic smile on his face, perfectly accentuated by petal-pink lipstick. He blinked sweetly, eyelashes beautifully soft and long and fluttering delicately. He raised one beautifully-manicured hand and wiggled his fingers in greeting - no finger thing. Oh god,  _ he  _ was the partner, Aziraphale was doing this for  _ him _ . And then Aziraphale - Aziraphale! picked up a feather  _ Oh my God that was a feather that was one of his  _ **_feathers_ ** ! and gently ran it down the side of the mic, and from the first sound Crowley was gone. 

He could almost swear the feather was actually trailing along his ears, and the delightful tingles ran down his neck and spine like a euphoric wildfire. It was the most relaxing feeling he had ever experienced, and that included every other ASMR video he'd ever seen. It was a feather video, and yet because Aziraphale had done this  _ for him _ , the whole thing screamed personal attention, and Crowley was somehow both falling asleep and thinking  _ Oh god oh fuck oh hell oh hell oh fuck oh damn oh god oh satan oh somebody  _ in an endless loop. And it was  _ just  _ a feather video. Nothing else, no anything. Just Aziraphale and one of his  _ own down feathers Crowley was  _ **_dying_ ** for an hour. 

Of course, Crowley was asleep long before the hour was up.

There were four videos, Crowley saw when he woke the next morning. Feather Sounds was first, and then came Comb Hair Treatment, then Gentle Hair Brushing, and then Gentle Scalp Massage. The background was something to be admired as well, a plain, soft white wall lit by the gentle pink glow of some off-camera light. There were strings of gold and silver metallic decorations in the background, and it was set up in such a way that they twinkled ever so slightly. The overall effect was that of a pinkish fog and twinkling stars, like some surreal, far-away planet. Crowley adored it.

He stayed in bed for the better part of the morning, listening to all four videos. Each of them had Aziraphale, his gentle finger-sound-less wave, and beautiful makeup. When he finally got out of bed he made a beeline straight for Aziraphale, sank to his knees, and pressed his face into Aziraphale's stomach.

"I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you god Aziraphale I love you  _ so fucking much- _ " Aziraphale got down on his knees and pulled Crowley even closer.

"I take it you found my collection?" 

"God angel I love it I love it so much I love you, God, Satan, anyone who's listening, I love you I love you!"

" _ I'm  _ listening," Aziraphale murmured quietly, and Crowley sighed. Aziraphale stroked his hair.

"...Tell me what you thought," he said, "Tell me what I can do better."

"No, angel, no, it was perfect, you did nothing wrong,  _ nothing _ ."

"Those four videos can't be the only things that make you tingle. There has to be more. Tell me. Tell me what else you want." Crowley thought about it, but he was honestly coming up blank.

"Give me...give me some time to think about it? I'll watch some other videos and tell you later, alright?"

"Alright, my dear. ...Tell me, did the videos help you fall asleep?"

"Yes, angel. Yes. They were perfect." Aziraphale smiled that smile of his, the one where he saw the rewards of his love firsthand.

"I'm glad."

***

"I've been thinking, Aziraphale…"

"Yes?"

"Well...Something with brushes might be nice…"

"Brushes? Certainly. Would you care to do my makeup?"

The next day, wonder of wonders  _ how did he get this lucky? _ there was a video on the Angelic ASMR channel titled Makeup Brush ASMR. And another titled Paintbrush ASMR, and another titled Cleaning Brush ASMR.  _ Who did he have to thank for this? For Aziraphale? Where did he go to repent for everything he'd ever done wrong ever, so that Aziraphale would never be taken from him? _

***

"I watched the  _ worst  _ ASMR video last night," Crowley complained.

"Not one of mine, I hope," Aziraphale said, looking up from his book.

"Course not, yours are perfect. They were doing that ear licking thing. I don't know why I bother with the ear licking ones, they're  _ always  _ too much. But...I dunno, this one…"

"This one, the 'worst ASMR video', had a redeeming feature?"

"Oh shut it, it was one second of redemption in an hour-long video."

"And this one second of redemption was…"

"...They did this thing. They...rubbed behind the ear. I thought...a video of that. And more finger ear massages. Would be good. But, but not where they cover the actual mic like they're covering the ear, that's a little too much, y'know?"

"Not in the slightest, but I'll do what I can. Care to help with my makeup?"

The next day, as before, Crowley had choices. He had Ear Tapping ASMR and Ear Massage ASMR to choose from. 

***

"You've been awfully quiet, Crowley. Did you see my newest videos?"

"I…" And just like that the book was set down, bookmark foregone, because taking the time to mark his page was irrelevant compared to the weight of the implication in that one single hesitation.

"You didn't like them."

"I- I just-" Aziraphale made a noise of distress, admittedly drunk on the constant praise and affirmations of love given for the seven prior videos.

"Tell me what I did wrong, darling. Tell me how I can do better. I'll re-record them, as many times as it takes. What can I do?"

"Okay, well…" Looking objectively at Aziraphale's videos was nigh-on impossible, because Aziraphale had sat down, recorded, and edited two hour-long videos, just for him, and to imply that he didn't appreciate that immensely…

"Well...I mean, I loved them, but…"

"But. But what, Crowley? What was wrong?"

"Well...okay. Well...I mean...The, er...the ear-tapping...wasn't...really my thing?"

"Consider it gone."

"I-" 

"Yes? What else?"

"Erm...I...that is...The other one...There was...it was...very light."

"...Elaborate, please."

"There was a lot of...touching? I would've liked to see more...rubbing. Sorry."

"Don't be, the entire channel is for your benefit, if you don't like the videos it might as well not exist. Rubbing...rubbing the shell of the ear?"

"And behind the ear, too. Like...kind of like you'd do with a dog, except no fingernails. And-and hair videos."

"...Sorry, you've lost me."

"I'd also like to see another hair video. Just your fingers. And...a comb video, where you comb the hair. And a lice check video. With you being all...all fussy and-and 'hush now, darling, don't grumble, this is for your own good you know', I'd really love that. You make the best videos, Aziraphale, you spoil me, really, I love you so much." Crowley was just trying to give Aziraphale more videos to think about to distract from the two missteps, and they both knew it.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear."

And the next day, the offending videos were gone, replaced by Back of Ear Massage, Ear Massage, Finger Scalp Massage, Lice Check (Talking), Hair Combing, and a bonus of Neck Scratching and Scalp Massage. 

"The neck scratching was great, angel. And that lice check, perfect. And that ear massage- you know...it just occurred to me…if there was some way to mute the sounds a little, an ear video might not be so bad?"

Lo and behold, the next day there was an addition of "Ear Sounds ASMR (Soft/Muted)."

"I love you so goddamn much, angel," Crowley sighed.

***

About a week later, Crowley had a revelation.

"You know what I haven't seen on your channel yet?"

"No? What's that?"

"A collection of sounds you like. I'd really like to find out what makes  _ you  _ tingle, Aziraphale." Aziraphale tensed, swallowing and looking away.

"Ah…"

"You don't have to if you don't want to-"

"No, no I want to, I do, it's just...the thing is, Crowley...I don't tingle." There was a heavy beat of silence, and then Crowley was across the room and on his knees in front of Aziraphale, taking his hands.

"That's not true. I'll make you tingle, Aziraphale, I will find  _ something  _ on this blasted earth that makes you tingle. I don't care how obscure it is, or how stupidly specific the conditions are, or how long it takes, I. Will. Make. You. Tingle." And then he gave Aziraphale a kiss so forceful and passionate that by the time Aziraphale had gotten his senses back Crowley had gone.

***

And yet, that seemed the end of it for quite some time. Crowley said nothing more on the subject, and Aziraphale continued to add more videos to his channel. He had recently added Vampire Feeding ASMR, as he'd swallowed in one of his videos and Crowley had eagerly pulled up his video, jabbed his finger at the screen and said "There! That's the vampire sound! Do that!" So now he had two vampire feeding sounds, one with a short roleplay and one without. Both had been done with a black screen, a five-litre water bottle, and a quick thank you to God that angels didn't actually have a digestive system. He didn't think it would be possible for a human to swallow water constantly for an hour, but then he didn't think anyone had tried it. At least, he hoped not. 

To be fair, the roleplay one had been easier to pull off. He hadn't had to drink for quite so long.

At any rate, it was about a month until Crowley finally strode into the living room where Aziraphale was reading, plucked the book from his hands, bookmarked it, set it down, took Aziraphale by the hand, and said "Bed. Come on."

"I-alright…" Aziraphale said, following him. Crowley had his phone and a set of headphones in his hand, and that could only mean one thing. ASMR. Crowley miracled Aziraphale into his coziest pyjamas (his only pyjamas, if they were being honest), then crawled into bed, pulled Aziraphale along with him, then began fitting the headphones into his ears.

"I made a special gift for you, angel. A video, just to make you tingle."

"Oh." Aziraphale looked pleased, and he obediently let Crowley maneuver him onto his back with the headphones in his ears. 

"I'm gonna hit play, and you let me know when you feel a tingle, alright?"

"Erm…"

"What is it, angel?" Crowley's voice was impossibly soft, like he knew Aziraphale was embarrassed about his lack of tingles and was being kind. Of course he knew. Crowley was the expert on ASMR, of course he'd figured out Aziraphale was embarrassed about the fact that he was an ASMRtist that couldn't tingle.

"I just...how will I know if I tingle?" Crowley laid on his back beside Aziraphale, lacing their fingers together.

"You'll know, angel, I promise. It's a very unique feeling." Aziraphale nodded.

"Close your eyes, angel. Just relax. I'll be right here beside you the whole time." Aziraphale closed his eyes, and Crowley squeezed his hand again.

"I'm pressing play now. I love you, so much, Aziraphale." He hit play.

The first sound that hit his ears was tapping. Tapping on wood, perhaps, with fingernails. The tapping continued for several long seconds before it changed to rubbing. That too continued, until it changed to tapping again - this time with the pads of the fingers instead of the nails.

The sounds changed frequently, every thirty seconds or so. There was a wide variety of sounds, which was very interesting to Aziraphale, but alas, he had felt no sign of the elusive tingles Crowley so loved.

They lay in silence for well over three hours. When the video ended, Crowley rolled over and kissed him on the forehead.

"Thank you for listening to the whole thing," he whispered, "I'll keep trying, I'll find something that makes you tingle, angel."

"It's no problem, Crowley, I read that some people just don't-"

"Shhh," Crowley shushed him, "You do tingle, I just haven't found the right triggers yet. It's going to be alright, Aziraphale, I'm going to help you find your tingles." Aziraphale smiled, a little.

"...That's very kind of you, Crowley."

Aziraphale caught Crowley listening to his videos in the daytime, and while that usually ended with Crowley asleep on the couch instead of in bed, Aziraphale noticed a sadness in Crowley's eyes during those watches. Aziraphale sighed, and kept making more videos. Crowley became ever more appreciative of the new content, and increasingly affectionate.

Crowley came back with another video a month later, and the triggers in that video were just as widespread as the last. Tapping on every conceivable surface, scrunching every possible fabric, and a few roleplays as well. This video was just as long as the last, and still nothing worked. Crowley rolled over, the same as last time, and kissed him, the same as last time. 

"I'll find something, angel. I'll find something."

The next video was...interesting. Crowley had decided that regular triggers simply weren't going to do it, so he switched to more exotic triggers. Aziraphale snapped his eyes open at one point to look at the screen, because he was sure- yes, that was magma boiling in a volcano. And then lava flowing over rocks. 

"Crowley, I-"

"I know, Aziraphale, I know. Just...close your eyes. You tingle less if you're doing things." Aziraphale closed his eyes again, and the rest of the video passed without incident.

Aziraphale looked through the channel by himself at one point. Hellfire ASMR. The description read:

_ My partner has admitted to me that he doesn't tingle, so I've decided that I won't rest until I find something that does make him tingle. _

Aziraphale was touched, but he worried this channel would end up being a testament of failure to Crowley. He had come to accept that he simply did not tingle. It almost hurt to see Crowley so determined to prompt a reaction he was incapable of having.

A month later, there was another video. Common triggers, but unique combinations. Writing on silk sheets. Feathers on walls. Sucking on blankets. The quill of a feather being scraped along the scalp like the tip of a comb. The quill traced the top of his head, and then it drew farther toward the back, and as it scraped along the back of the neck Aziraphale drew in a breath, eyes fluttering half-open. Crowley froze, his attention sharpening. Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds. The quill on the back of the neck. Eight minutes and thirty-nine seconds. The quill repeated its path through hair.

"Oh…" It was nothing more than a release of air, no sound. Eight minutes and forty-five seconds. The quill repeated its path, along the side of the head now. Aziraphale drew in another breath, his eyes fluttered closed again and he sighed, the tension releasing from his body. The quill repeated another path on the other side of the head, and Aziraphale gasped again.

"Crowley," he breathed, "Crowley, is this…"

"Yes, angel," Crowley whispered, and he wanted to hug Aziraphale but he dared not disturb the moment, "That's tingling." Nine minutes and two seconds, the other end of the feather on the hair. Silence from Aziraphale.

"...Crowley…"

"I know. Let's try to see if anything else makes you tingle, alright?"

"...I suppose…" Crowley kissed Aziraphale, and got up.

"Just keep listening, I'll be back. Anything happens, take note of the time." Aziraphale closed his eyes again. Crowley left. He came back in a few seconds after the video ended. Aziraphale sat up to see Crowley coming back into the room.

"I've got a surprise for you, angel," he murmured. He sat close, kissed Aziraphale, and refreshed his video feed. Another video popped up, posted just now, titled "Feathered Neck Scratching". Crowley clicked on it while Aziraphale watched.

Crowley's face stared back at him, hair miracled long and wearing delicate makeup. She took a long back feather with a sharp quill, smiled at the camera, then began running the quill along the neck of the mannequin. That same feeling fizzled through his body, and Aziraphale gasped.

"A whole video…?"

"A whole video," Crowley said, taking his hand and laying down beside him, "Just for you."

The whole thing felt exquisite. Crowley rested his head on his chest and he squeezed Aziraphale's hand gently. Aziraphale was treated to two and a half hours of this wonderful, relaxing tingling, and for the first time in his six thousand years, when sleep came to him, it was  because he was so relaxed he simply couldn't keep his eyes open.

When he woke, birds chirped merrily in the distance. The sun was shining through the windows. The video had stopped. Aziraphale wondered how long he had been asleep for. He looked over, and Crowley was asleep on his chest. Aziraphale began rubbing Crowley's back, and Crowley hummed.

"Mmm…"

"Good morning, Crowley," he whispered.

"How'd'you sleep?"

"Well, thank you."

"I'm glad."

"...Thank you, Crowley." Crowley shrugged.

"Knew you tingled. Wasn't gonna let you go around not tingling. Wouldn't be right."

"Still, thank you."

"Mmm." Crowley yawned, snuggling into Aziraphale again and closing his eyes.

"I take it this means we're going back to sleep?"

"Mhm. Night, angel." Aziraphale brought a hand up to Crowley's scalp and begin scratching, and Crowley sighed.

"You spoil me, angel…"

"It's my favourite thing to do."

"Gonna keep updating the channel, right?"

"Only if you keep finding more things to make me tingle on yours."

"Promise, angel. Promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Update: The fic is You, Soft and Only by thehoyden, which AO3 will not let me link for some reason.


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